


Not Alone

by auselysium



Category: Holby City
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 17:41:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12964869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auselysium/pseuds/auselysium
Summary: It's been a rough shift on Keller a few days following Frederick's attacks at Holby. Dom and Lofty find peace, and each other, in a stairwell.





	Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this spoiler picture: http://auselysium.tumblr.com/post/168293219421/lovedofty1105-dofty-spoiler-pic-for-12th

He’d only needed a single word.

Dom’s tirade directed at new F1 Meena’s lack of effort had elevated to the point of shouting. While the patient had watched on with a nervous expression and Meena had cowered under the criticism, all it had taken was Lofty’s sharp, “Dominic,” and a look from the opposite side of the bed for Dom to hear Lofty’s voice of reason in his head.

_Not now. It’s not their fault._

The look had been stern and empathetic, all at once.

_Cut her some slack and go take a breather._

With a stiff apology to both the patient and Meena, Dom finds some quiet in the stairwell.

The space is empty of both people and memories from the attack. _The shootings? The killings?_ It’s still so fresh that Dom hasn’t even settled on what to call it yet. The sun is beginning to set on this shift, casting long, winter shadows across the hallway and he exhales slowly.

Of course Lofty is right. The new F1’s aren’t to blame for being thrown into this storm of mourning that everyone is suffering through, some more deeply than others. Even as they deal with their personal losses, life at the hospital must go on, treating patients and educating the next generation of medics. Dom undoubtedly made stupider mistakes on his first day on the ward and he didn’t have such extenuating circumstances to use as an excuse.  
  
He presses the pads of his fingers against his temples, the lids eyes and feels the agitation eb out of his veins just as Lofty comes into the hallway, taking the steps two at a time to sit next to him.

He sits quietly, seeming equally thoughtful as Dom. This introspective stillness has been the prevailing mood these past few days from nearly all on staff.

He clasps his hands between his knees and Dom can’t help but watch the movement, reminded of that welcome weight of Lofty’s hand to his knee in the scrub room. The security he’d felt at Lofty’s warm hand in his as the full brutality of the event had washed over them.

He hasn’t thanked Lofty for being by his side through it all, not properly at least. As Dom had teetered on the verge of utter panic, Lofty had been mild and steady, looking out for him and for others, a recurring refrain where Lofty is involved. It seems an odd thing to do now - to thank someone for being by your side on one of the most terrifying days of your life. Dom can only hope that just like it seems Lofty knows, all on his own, that Dom doesn’t need a lecture about his extreme behavior towards the F1, he also knows just how much Dom had needed him.

“I haven’t been sleeping.”

Dom makes a halted, confused sound as Lofty’s words disconnect him from his thoughts.

“The past few nights, since it happened, I just...haven’t been able to stand the quiet of my own flat. I ended up going over to Max and Robyn’s last night when I couldn’t stand it any longer.” He laughs softy. “I was actually happy when the baby started crying at 3am, cause at least I knew I wasn’t alone anymore.”

Dom can relate all too easily.

“I fell asleep with the telly on last night,” he says. “I only realized I’d slept the whole night on the sofa when I was suddenly dreaming about the BBC Breakfast theme.” Dom bumps his shoulder against his, encouraging him to look his way. “You should have called me.”

“Should I?” Lofty asks, an icy uncertainty in his eyes and voice that takes Dom by surprise.

“Of course.”

“I just didn’t know if you’d...” Lofty’s voice falls and he mutters. “I didn’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

“Wrong way? I…” Dom stutters. “I wouldn’t.”

With a thoughtful nod, he replies, “Noted.”

Lofty’s gaze returns to his hands only this time they strain against each other, knuckles locked, muscles too taut, veins protruding too distinctly from his skin. He begins to rock back and forth almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve seen more gunshot wounds during my time at A&E than I care to remember. But to hear it so close. To see the look on Hanssen’s face when he’d realized Frederick was gone…I just can’t get it out of my head. But I just have to keep reminding myself,” Lofty goes on. “It could have been so much worse.”

“How?” Dom asks. “Hanssen’s in tatters. Ollie’s pre-frontal lobe has been nearly obliterated and we have no idea what state he’ll be in when he wakes up, if he wakes up. Jac is fighting sepsis from being cut open in an unsterile setting. Raf is gone...”

“But it could have been you!” Lofty’s eyes are wide, glinting with tears and it sits Dom back. “It could have been you at the end of Frederick’s gun and if it had, I just…”

Lofty brushes at a tear fiercely and that’s when Dom finally understands what is happening here.

This is Lofty, who had been a calming force during the lockdown and a level-headed co-worker all day, teetering on the edge. This is mild, steady Lofty terrified of the memories. This is Lofty not being able to cope. This is Lofty needing _him_.

“Hey,” Dom says gently, as he scoots across the step, closer. He lifts his hand to rest between Lofty’s shoulder blades and Lofty flinches at the touch. His muscles remain tight and only relaxing under Dominic’s palm when their eyes meet and Dom gives him an assuring smile. “I’m ok. We’re both ok.”

“I know.” His breath hitches. “And I know we haven’t talked about...us in a long time and I know you don’t want to hear it or won’t believe me when I say it, but I care for you, Dom. A lot. And if something had happened…”

“But it didn’t,” Dom interrupts, the bite of tears at the back of his throat thick and biting. The hand that has once been gentle on Lofty’s back is now firm and assertive on his shoulder. “And that’s thanks to you. Having you by my side, it’s the only way I managed to even remotely hold myself together. I wouldn’t have coped in there if I’d been alone.”

It’s only in the quiet that follows that Dom realizes Lofty has just confessed continued feelings for him. A warm blush fills his cheeks as he becomes aware just how close their bodies have become and his body remembers. Remembers that intimacy they have shared and how good it had felt. When their eyes meet again, their gaze catches and holds with a beautiful vulnerability, fostering a safe space between them.

“Should we go do something normal?” Dom asks and the corners of Lofty’s eyes crease with a smile.

“Like what? I’m not really up for a drink at Alby’s.”

“No, me neither.” Dom inhales and pushes himself up to his feet, lightly stepping down the remaining few steps to the stairwell landing. He looks back up at Lofty. “I could do with a take away at mine, though. Maybe a movie? Something cheesy from the 80’s.”

“Life of Brian,” Lofty intones, as if he’d already had that idea in his head before Dom even suggested it.

Dom laughs and the sound surprises him. “Perfect.”

Lofty stands and everything about his demeanor has changed. He looks less serious. Full of less tension. Less sadness. More hope. Dom could kiss him.

“This isn’t a date, you know.”  
  
To call it that seems inappropriate, considering everything.

“Yeah, no, of course not,” Lofty mutters, clearly disappointed.

“This is just us,” Dom says. “Not being alone.”

A simple synonym, a single word - _together_ \- is left unspoken but is clearly understood as Dom reaches for Lofty’s hand. Their fingers link, their palms align, warm and sure.

They look at their joined hands, then at each other and don’t let go.


End file.
